


Cinnamon roll

by Jojo1112



Series: Cinnamon rolls [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, One Shot, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 10:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojo1112/pseuds/Jojo1112
Summary: Part of the "101 Things Manduin Must Endure" Edition, a collection of one shots between Sylvanas x Anduin.Cute, humorous and fluffy AU with a modern feel but also still Azeroth at the same time. Anduin is a baker and has to endure Sylvanas as a customer...To be continued under the Age Gap Edition since I had so much fun writing it.





	Cinnamon roll

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N**  
> 
> You are simply the best, my comrade-in-arms from the _Warcraft Writer's Guild_. I adore you all to pieces. Your inspiration means so much to me!
> 
> Heartfelt thanks to you, _Taedae_. Words cannot express my gratitude for your help.
> 
> Always look on the bright side of life!

*

The cool breeze that came through the air felt wonderful in the warm surroundings of the open view bakery where guests outside from Stormwind's street could watch freshly baked products being produced on-site. And many people stopped by the window only to cast a glance inside and at the diligent bakers in the Trade District.

Anduin, the master baker, wiped his floury hands with a cloth and tilted his head to relax his sore muscles, the white baker hat fixed to keep his long golden-blonde hair behind his ears. Working with his hands was fun, and bestowed him with muscles in places he hadn't known muscles could be, but sometimes he thought about the purchase of a machine to make his hard work more comfortable. In the last few months, they had often been sold out in the late afternoon, and if he were able to bake more...

No, right now he didn't really want to go that far, expansion was not on his mind. There was more to life than work, and he hadn't gotten much of a chance to taste real life lately. As every day – except Monday, when the bakery was closed, a day Anduin mostly spent exhausted in bed, reading – he was up since the middle of the night to bake bread, buns, cake and pretzels – one of the specialties the bakery was famous for – as well as rolls and nowadays croissants.

“Anduin?”

He turned around. “I'm here.”

Mathias Shaw, the manager of the bakery, stopped on the threshold, well aware of the stringent hygiene regulations and waited for the young man to walk over to him.

“I have some good news.”

A smile was seen on Anduin's face although beads of sweat collected on his forehead. Mathias, a friend of his father's, had been an enrichment to the old bakery that had been in his family's hands for over a century now. With his help, they had preserved the historic vaulted room, which once served already as a bakery for the King and the Army of Stormwind and had turned it into a modern, bright and spaciously furnished bakery. It was a tragedy that Anduin's father, Varian, had never been able to see all this because he had died while the bakery had been in its restoration process. Which left the boy, who just turned sixteen years old and was in the middle of his training as a baker, to ensure the future of Stormwind's most traditional bakery. He was grateful for Shaw filling in the selling part of the bakery's management while he continued his training, and even succeeded to earn his masters while still working in the store. There had been not much youth left for Anduin, but he had performed excellently.

“You have?”

“Yes.” Mathias nodded. “We, or let's better say you, will do an interview with a local reporter from one of the most famous, highest circulation daily, the 'Azerothian News'. It is scheduled for tomorrow late afternoon before we close.”

Anduin watched him for a moment. “I think it is a much better idea for you to handle it.” The young man was shy and reticent which was why he didn't prefer to stand in the spotlight and to have the full attention of people in general.

“No,” Shaw shook his head, “you were specifically asked for. And since it is you who makes all the wonderful tasty goods every day, I think you are the one who's deserving of it. Look, it's only one interview.”

Anduin got nervous. “You know it is not my strength, meeting... strangers, and especially reporters.” He sighed. “Besides you are the one who is fantastic with words and managing things. I only bake, and I like to stay here, quite frankly.”

Shaw couldn't resist his next comment. “Yet I know you often go to the counter when there's a great deal too much going on in the salesroom.”

“That is a rare occasion. And only because Mia begs me for it. You had the idea of us offering takeaway coffee in all sorts and variations, and customers stand in line at the door each morning, trailing out onto the street for it lately.”

Anduin didn't add that was a good thing. He had been against it in the first place but gave in after seeing that it wasn't only done with getting the bread sold, but to offer the people a lot more. “I was thinking of recruiting a new employee, but it's not easy with the ladies.” Since the bakery had become that famous, three to four people, or often more, were needed in the sales room. Early morning and lunchtime were peak times at the bakery.

It seemed Mathias had been right, his plan had worked out, the bakery had grown more acknowledged far beyond the city and the national borders. Which was why, unfortunately, Anduin had now to endure reporters not only from the local daily. Yet, well educated in politeness and kindness, Anduin was not one to dismiss other people only because they did something _he_ abhorred.

The smell becoming pleasant around them, Anduin was reminded to check the stone baking oven. “We'll talk later?” He threw back over his shoulder and hurried to get the baking trays.

Mathias grinned. “There's no way you'll get out of this!” He shouted after him and returned to the salesroom, where one of the saleswomen, dressed in the bakery's blue and golden uniform, was already at work and greeted him friendly. Elsie Benton, along with her husband Wyll who helped Anduin with the baking, was one of the oldest employees here, having already served under Anduin's father. Being a patient woman, she handled the counter very well.

*

It was late in the morning when Sylvanas Windrunner was on her way to the bureau, wanting to step into her favorite bakery for a coffee and a cinnamon roll, the only sweet she allowed herself. Being still tired, having returned only yesterday from an assignment abroad to do research about the discovery of an ancient troll history in Zandalar, she was looking for her daily dose of caffeine. The jet lag had caught her at a wrong time and so had the climate change, which was why she wasn't in the best mood. Zandalar was beautiful but had tropical temperatures. Yet here in Stormwind, where one of the two headquarters of the famous 'Azerothian News' was located – the other one being in Orgrimmar – where she had been summoned to, it rained, though it was not cold but fresh compared to the Zandalarian humid heat.

Dressed in her dark business suit because they had their weekly conference around noon, she was already on the phone with one of her colleagues from the foreign sector who told her just about the news, although he was sitting in Orgrimmar.

“Rumor has it you are doing something for the domestic sector next.”

Sylvanas frowned while walking along the sidewalk, completely ignoring some of the looks that followed that beautiful figure of hers. Womanly curves, yet lean and athletic – Sylvanas preferred archery and aerobic as her fitness – dancing on high heels as if she wore ballerina, as well as the long platinum-blonde hair which was put-up to emphasize the professional look, made a lot of people turn. Not to forget the beautiful face with intense blue, almost grey eyes and full lips. Sylvanas knew she was good-looking; therefore she only put a highlight on her smoky-eyes-look and on the purple lipstick she so loved.

“Domestic? I deem it best to fly over to Northern Kalimdor because...”

“You know that arbitrary arrests have led to political unrest there. At least at Darkshore.”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes. “Your worry is noted, but that's exactly what makes it interesting. I was told there's...”

While talking, she entered the bakery, the pleasant smell always putting her in a bittersweet mood. If nothing else, this location was a highlight in her otherwise unsteady life she was grateful for. The warm atmosphere that was predominant here reminded her of her parents' home that had fallen victim once to vandalism. Azeroth was split into too many sections by now. Sylvanas shared the popular opinion of many that it would be better to unite it under _one_ faction. And she tended to lean her sympathies to the autocratic one over in Kalimdor, not to the democratic one here in the Eastern Kingdoms.

She also visited the bakery every time she was here in Stormwind's headquarter because her two sisters, Alleria and Vereesa, had often enthused about it. Sylvanas' unsteady and dangerous professional life had made her lose the regular contact to them, plus she missed so many family reunions due to essential dates as a workwise consequence. She coughed, suddenly threatened to drown in the memories and started to realize the many indignant looks at her. There was already a line which stretched out onto the street.

She pulled herself forcefully together and concentrated on the male voice on the other end of her phone while she enqueued.

“No,” she cut him off, being ignorant toward some other annoyed looks from around her because her voice didn't sound loud but strangely echoing due to a sore throat, “this is nowhere acceptable, and the decision is inscrutable! I dare say our boss has got to work another reporter for this... I am not a mindless wretch of that ghoul-working army of his... no, what you said...?!”

She looked up, staring at the person in front of her who had turned around, making her raise eyebrows in that indignant way of hers she used to intimidate a lot of people with. “None of your business?”

The other shook the head but turned back.

Sylvanas shook her head, too, getting agitated. “No. I did not suffer unspeakable tragedies only to do a 'domestic' report?”

The long line in front of the bakery moved forward very slowly.

“Geez, I have to wait here a bit longer. – No, currently at the bakery... yes, that one. – Do I?" A smirk played around her lips. “Alright. Nobody calls me a monster.” She hated that word. She pinned her phone between her head and her shoulder, fishing for something in her handbag. “What do you want, then?”

Irritated at herself that she had obviously grabbed the wrong handbag because what she was looking for wasn't in it, she gave up. Balancing wildly with phone and bag, she bumped into the person behind her. “Sorry,” she murmured, only to earn another frown. “What is it with these people here?” She continued speaking into her phone and rolled her eyes. “I said sorry, right?”

Then she took the phone in her hand again and sneezed, getting disgusted glances. “No, I wasn't talking to you, but nevermind. – Yes, yes, I'll get you a coffee, too, once you are back here. Nat?”

She changed her ear. “No, I can't hear you right now...”

Annoyed that she was still stuck out on the street, and only near the door of the bakery, Sylvanas continued her call in a complaining voice. “Hell, I have some actual dates, but this line doesn't become shorter...”

Sylvanas was looked at disapprovingly a great deal, but she ignored it while she carried on talking. To have Nathanos on the line was essential to her, that's why she didn't care.

*

In the bakery, the elderly ladies worked hard. Elsie, seeing that it wasn't done with only the four of them, two selling the baked goods and two at the coffee section, hurried over to the threshold that separated the salesroom from the bakery and called for Anduin, signaling towards the line that could be seen even from there.

Anduin sighed, but saw what Elsie meant and walked over to her, taking off his hat and disinfecting his hands. She smiled at him when he came. “I wouldn't ask you if we weren't really in need of you,” she said and winked.

And really, as he followed her into the salesroom, he was astonished seeing the long line. Due to the coffee, he assumed. Well, his place was where the baked goods were. Slipping between Mia Greymane and Elsie, he assisted the elder ladies selling his baked goods from the early morning. And thus, he was there, when Sylvanas who had eyed that young blonde boy for some time now, shook her head over his slowness and joked about him while still on her phone. He came to serve her, the blue eyes widening a fraction when she turned with her phone toward him, smirking. She already had the coffee in her hand.

“Wait a moment, Nat – two cinnamon rolls.”

Anduin turned around, to grab onto the relevant box only to see that there wasn't much left. When he turned back to her, he had a regretful smile on his face. “I am sorry to tell you there's only one left – can I offer you anything else? How about –”

“I wanted two cinnamon rolls, not one,” she hissed at him. Was this boy dumb or what?

“Yes,” Anduin answered her calmly, “but I told you there's only one left.”

Sylvanas didn't react immediately, still talking on the phone. “No, Nat, these rolls are only for me! You should come over here and –”

A sweet voice interrupted her. “Please excuse the inconvenience caused, but there's none left anymore.” Mia had walked behind Anduin and had grabbed the last cinnamon roll to put it into a brown paper bag with handwritten letters on it. “This one was already reserved, I'm very sorry,” she explained with a smile and turned to the next customer.

Little did Anduin know that Mia who had often worked when Sylvanas had frequented the bakery, couldn't stand that blonde woman, always speaking into her phone instead of paying attention to the saleswomen, bordering close to rudeness. She had waited only for a chance to get even with the lady – and now the moment had been given! She felt for Anduin but not that much as she knew he could get himself out of the situation. His hidden charm always worked wonders. And well, if they lost _one_ customer... who cared, right? This one was not worth keeping, especially with the impolite manners she had. It was highly necessary that someone taught this customer manners.

Sylvanas' eyes bristled with fury. Therefore, Anduin tried to solve the precarious situation as soon as possible.

“I'm sorry. I can offer you vanilla rolls. For free, as compensation?”

Sylvanas boiled. “If you hadn't been that _slow_ , I would've already had two cinnamon rolls and could've left.”

“Slow?” Anduin raised his eyebrows. “I simply dealt with the other customers first, you were not the first in line, I'm sorry again.”

“I saw it, boy, had you been a bit faster then your colleague wouldn't have had the chance to grab the last roll.”

“Excuse me, but...” 

Sylvanas snorted and interrupted him. “Great at making flimsy excuses, it would seem. I want my cinnamon rolls! – Or at least, one.” Her threatening glance turned over to Mia, and the way she had acted made her assume the elderly lady was the chief here. It was always better to turn immediately to the boss. “Perhaps you should teach your apprentice here some manners and tell him to work more quickly. Otherwise, I recommend you look for another one.”

For a moment, Anduin gaped at that beautiful, yet angry face. She was almost dangerous in her manner. Emotions tumbled within him at sight. Attraction, but also rejection. Did she speak of _him_?

Mia only grinned. “I'm sorry that he's so clumsy.” She winked. “But you see, there's nothing we can do about the _sweet_ cinnamon rolls. – You like to try perhaps our _salty_ pretzels instead?” Then, she turned back to her customer.

Sylvanas was foaming with rage. “No, thank you. What is this? Active bribery?”

Anduin shook his head and tried once more. “I am really sorry that we don't have a cinnamon roll left. Would you like to have that vanilla roll or not?”

“This will have consequences,” Sylvanas noted angrily. “I do not believe that this is the proper way to maintain a customer.”

“Neither is it to be treated in a patronizing way,” Anduin countered, his chagrin about her luring out his hidden brashness. Then, he took a deep breath. “Look, I apologize for the inconvenience. Now if you are open to –”

He didn't get further because she cut him off. “ _Look_ , your boss ought to teach you a little strategy because I have no time. And you should learn first how to treat a customer appropriately." And then, Sylvanas, in a fit of anger, took her coffee that had grown cold in the meantime, and doused Anduin with it, turning his white apron dark brown, slamming the empty cup on the counter. “Keep it.”

At one go, she turned around and rushed out of the bakery with Anduin staring after her, not knowing whether he should laugh or grumble. One thing was sure: the beautiful lady had a hot temper.

*

Sylvanas was still quivering with rage once she arrived at Stormwind's headquarter, having ended her call and marching straight to the bureau of Lor'themar Theron, the editor in chief of Azeroth's most influential newspaper. “This better be something good, Lor'themar Theron, or I'll swear I will...”

“Good morning, Sylvanas.” A cool look met her. “How come you are in such a bad mood? – I would like to put you out of your misery at last.”

Why was she like this? She had been since the separation she had to go through with Nathanos Marris, another famous reporter who was now situated at the other headquarters of the 'Azerothian News'. Nowadays, she threw temper tantrums, and Theron commiserated with her on her bad luck, but this was going too far. She had so much talent, it was such a shame, should it all go to waste?

Instead of an answer, a cold look was thrown back at him. “Me out of my misery? Shall I declare your last incompetency from first slamming, to finally accepting my review of how a renewed Azeroth is possible as a move in the right direction?”

“No need to. I dream of an Azeroth renewed, but by our chosen weapons, words written on paper alone, that will not come to pass.”

“I can do without your humor, Lor. Why do I get a new assignment? Why not -"

“I see that being absent for a while has made you even bossier.”

“Do not tempt me, Lor.”

“I will tell you why. Because I think it will do you good, Sylvanas. I know that you had your challenges to master... but now it's time for writing things on your own and calm down for a bit.”

She was speechless for a moment. “Have I not worked to your satisfaction? What about the award-winning report of the burning of Teldrassil? About the ruins of Lordaeron? Have I not ever worked to your favor?”

“What we do, we do for the 'Azerothian News', Sylvanas.”

Theron gave his personal assistant in the background a nod, who probably wanted to remind him of the conference that was scheduled in the next minutes and turned back to his most skilled reporter.

“I personally think you are much better placed in the domestic department at the moment. In fact, to stay here some days in Stormwind and do some research will do you good, before I send you out into the dangerous fields of Azeroth again.”

Sylvanas leaned forward and put her hands on the table. “Fine.” She tried to control her temper. “What do you want me to do then?”

Lor leaned forward, too. “First a contribution to the inhabitants of Stormwind. You will have it done in two days, I am convinced. – There's a famous bakery here in town, and I want you to interview the descendants.”

“Of which one do you speak?”

“The one which is famous for its pretzels, cinnamon rolls, and its coffee. You might know it,” he said while pointing at the coffee cup with a smile that had printed 'Wrynn & Son Bakery Ltd.' on it.

Sylvanas only snorted, knowing immediately of which one he was talking about, and her anger flared up again. “Thank you, but no.”

The way she had been treated there still left her to bristle in anger.

Theron watched her confused. “No? – I thought something as easy as this would get your mood a bit rooted here. Doing research and meeting and talking with people who earn their life with...”

“I said already, no,” Sylvanas interrupted him.

Her boss leaned back into his chair. “I have _already_ made an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. You will meet with the baker himself, and there's no infamous way of you to squirm free of it – Sylvanas, are you listening?"

Sylvanas had wanted to deny him in all of her blunt politeness again, but suddenly something else was on her mind. – If she was to do the interview, then she perhaps could succeed in making guaranteed that she would always get cinnamon rolls, right? _Personally_ reserved for her. It still bugged her to no end that she had been denied that last tasty cinnamon roll. Ugh, she certainly had to interview the old lady with a smile as false as she could've ever done – Sylvanas was ignorant, but not blind – but it didn't matter, she convinced herself. The outcome was so much better. Being in the position to even threaten them! Ha.

“I'll do it.”

Lor'themar only raised his eyebrows, not really wanting to know what had changed the mind of his best reporter. “Alright.”

*

The next day and Sylvanas walked majestically past the bakery's entrance, missing the coffee and the cinnamon roll badly, especially with that smell in her nose, but her pride would not allow it. Perhaps... she would be lucky and get something of it later, she comforted herself.

Anduin who had just at this moment mixed the dough with a whisk – a task that was now a deeply ingrained habit – had taken a look outside the windows to watch the pedestrians walk by, and recognized her immediately. Today, she was wearing a purple dress combined with a camel brown leather jacket with flashy buttons, still breathtakingly hugging her gorgeous female curves. Her self-confident walk on high heels when she stopped short to talk into the phone on her ear before she resumed walking by, was simply overwhelming to observe.

 _Beautiful long and slender legs_ , Anduin thought to himself, only to blush and scold himself at the same moment. What was he thinking... this woman was out of his league! And he definitely had lost her as a customer.

He was grateful for Mathias distracting him only a few moments later to inform him that the reporter of the 'Azerothian News' would arrive around late afternoon before they closed. Anduin wasn't entirely happy with it, since it touched upon his free time, but promised Mathias to be patient and attentive, and deliver all pieces of information he was asked for.

Being very busy around lunchtime, he had almost forgotten about it and was on his knees cleaning under the preparation table when he heard Elsie's voice. “Anduin?”

Not bothering with anything, since the bakery was already empty, as was the salesroom – Elsie in her tidying phase, as he liked to call it – he answered. “Give me five minutes, Elsie!”

“Anduin, I think there's someone for you here.”

He surfaced and threw a look at the threshold, seeing Elsie with... _her_??? Oh no, he had to endure another tirade of what he had done wrong? Or it was something else she was here for?

Sighing, he wiped his hands with a clean cloth from his apron and walked over. “Elsie?”

She made a hand gesture. “I'd better leave you alone during the interview. I'll close the bakery. Have a good night.”

Nodding towards him, she walked away.

Sylvanas questioning look followed her. “And who is this Mr. Wrynn I should talk to...”

“That would be me.” Anduin sighed, sensing the worst, stepped towards her and extended his hand. “ _You_ are from the 'Azerothian News'?”

An incredulous glance met him, and Anduin wasn't sure what to think of it. He let his extended hand sink, suddenly discouraged. This would be no pleasant interview.

She was still dressed in that gorgeous purple etui dress that hugged her curves and left no desire open, and he swallowed while she was doing everything to hide her obvious displeasure. After Shaw had told him who would come, he had done some quick research, but he had never associated _her_ with the name of the notorious reporter that had her finger in every pie of Azeroth that came up, having little time to take a thorough look through his research.

“Anduin Wrynn, I presume.”

“Yes.”

She snorted but carried on. “I am Sylvanas Windrunner, and you guessed right that I am from the 'Azerothian News'. I am here for an interview with _you_ , then?"

 _Such a great start_ , Anduin groaned inwardly but asked her nevertheless very politely to follow him through the salesroom to Shaw's and his bureau, hidden behind one of the two doors that led obviously deeper into the old townhouse, while getting rid of his baker hat and apron along the way.

Sylvanas followed him, rolling her eyes that she had to deal now with the slow boy, but comforted herself with the thought of securing cinnamon rolls forever.

He eyed her when she took place on the opposite side of the big desk, placing her phone in the middle. “It's easy,” she explained, “I query and you answer...”

Anduin, who felt a bit uncomfortable tried to ease the situation. “Can I offer you some coffee first? And a cinnamon roll, of course... to make up for past wrongs?” He smiled a smile she hadn't expected. An open smile she wasn't used to, and that made her pensive.

It could only mean one thing. “So I will write a positive report about you, you mean?”

He glanced at her, surprised. “I didn't think of you writing positively,” he said to her. “Why would I? I remember that we did everything to make you not feel welcome here, right? – I was merely offering you a refreshment, as the people do here. Just a normal thing.”

“Don't tell me you are innocent. You wanted to get rid of me as well as your employee.”

“Do you always think first and foremost the worst of people?”

She didn't answer him, and it was perhaps answer enough. He left and returned some minutes later, coffee for her – remembering exactly how she had taken it, having read her special wish on the cup she had left empty on the counter – with two cinnamon rolls and put it in front of her.

“I reserved those two for you since we had a customer here recently who blamed us for not having baked enough,” he mentioned calmly.

Sylvanas swallowed, for the first time close to feeling something like a bit guilty because she had been the one to douse the young man with her coffee and he hadn't mentioned it so far. “Thank you.”

He rubbed his eyes, obviously tired, and she scrutinized him a bit while he took place at the opposite side of the big desk. “Do I come at a bad time?”

“No,” he shook his head and smiled again, weary. “It's just – I'm on my feet for over twelve hours now, and this is usually the time I can say goodbye to the bakery and go upstairs and rest a bit.”

Her eyes rested on him, and it came as close to a question as she was able to phrase it. “Twelve hours.”

“Yes.” Anduin grew wearier and leaned back. “Preparation takes time. I mix the ingredients into a dough, and I do it by hand. Then I have to roll out the dough on a floured surface.” He sighed. “And there's not only the one for cakes and pastries but also the one for croissants and for the pretzels and for the rolls –” he watched her and declined, “– and I am certain that I already bore you to death with it.” 

“I think I'll try the cinnamon roll now with a completely new set of eyes,” she answered him with an ironic undertone.

“I add a dash of cinnamon to the dough, and the dough consists mostly of butter, milk, and flour,” Anduin continued, his mouth twitching, “and as elsewhere, it is the proportion and the way you prepare that makes the outcome. And the effect, of course.”

“Would've never guessed it,” was her dry reply.

She seemed to understand a bit humor?

“I'm sure I'm nothing else than boredom to you,” he replied, “so why have you been ordered to do the interview, if I may ask? Punishment?”

She looked up and watched him with curiosity. “Why do you think I'm being punished?” Had _that_ been on Lor's mind?

He blushed. “I've checked on you when I was told some hours before that it would be you who was sent to interview me.”

“Hmmm.”

“You are famous for your fearless foreign reports about Azeroth, and especially about our last warfront on Darkshore, so shouldn't you be out on the next battlefield?”

Confronted with a profound insight into her life, Sylvanas didn't know why she said it, but she did. “I messed up.”

He was taken aback. “How? – If I may ask again.”

She hesitated. “I let personal things... get in the way of my job.” For a moment she turned away, not knowing why she talked with this young boy about stuff she never spoke to anyone about, not even with her sisters. There. They were present again.

She put the rest of the first roll back on the porcelain plate, suddenly not hungry anymore. Almost close to nausea.

Anduin saw the shadow of sadness that flew over her face and felt immediately guilty. “My apologies,” he began, “I didn't want to pry... I am really sorry.”

He fell silent, watching a crack in the armor she obviously wore the whole time. Worried. But then, a shield was needed at the places she worked. It must be tough to dig into the middle of a war and to report about it. To be ready at any time, to see and be in a touch of misery and poverty and pain every day, and possibly, every minute. He couldn't imagine what it felt like...

“Tell me,” her voice trembled slightly, “tell me about your work.”

Anduin smiled at her. “I already told you, it's not fascinating.”

“But you make people happy with your cakes and pastries.”

“I hope.”

She became agitated again, gesticulating with her hands. “There must be something you are proud of! If it is not making people happy with serving baked goods they are willing to stand in line for, then what else?”

“I don't know,” Anduin said truthfully and rubbed his eyes again, “perhaps you better ask Mathias Shaw, he's the manager of the bakery, and without him, I would've never succeeded in taking over and handling the finances and the restoration of the bakery.”

“Aren't you proud of the restoration, then?”

“It wasn't my doing.”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes again. “Geez, I think I can stop this interview and make the rest out of articles that had already been written about the bakery.”

“I'm sorry that I'm of no help." Anduin yawned when suddenly an idea was forming in his mind. Perhaps... he could suggest this. “Are you hungry?” He asked out of the blue.

She observed him sharply. “No more cinnamon rolls, thank you.”

He laughed. “I was thinking of cooking something hearty. I'm done with the sweet smell in my nose. If you like to accompany me, we could carry on with the interview in my kitchen.”

She eyed him for some time. “Where do you live?”

He pointed upward. “Just upstairs.”

“I trust you will not waste my time.” Suddenly, she felt tired, too. Maybe sitting in a more personal room would get the young man more comfortable to opening up? And this wouldn't take so long? Determined, she followed him through to the second door while Anduin switched the lights of the bakery off.

Above, a minimalistic version of a modern apartment opened to her. The kitchen, where he made her take place at a wooden table, was a cozy place, but well-equipped and functional.

“I'll be right back,” he told her and vanished for some minutes. He came back, dressed in a white shirt and in jeans, and he looked younger than ever.

“How old are you?”

“Take a guess.”

“I didn't do a lot of research,” Sylvanas offered. Her eyes followed each of his movements when he prepared something to eat. He is not bad-looking, she thought after a while. Golden blonde hair in a ponytail and blue eyes, in addition a lean, but well-toned body. And so damn polite.

“Is 'Spaghetti Bolognese' alright for you?”

“Of course.” It had been a while since she had visited a restaurant. Or eaten on a regular basis. Fascinated, she just watched him while he worked, skilled and fast.

“You didn't answer my question.”

“That's important how?”

“Maybe some customers wouldn't call you an apprentice if I were to write about how you struggle with your age."

“I do not struggle with my age.” He shook his head, smiling. “And you know, that said customer would've called me anything only to express the anger about being treated... the wrong way. And you know what else? It turned out to be right. Our conduct was inexcusable. Although I have to add to my defense that I wanted _her_ to have at least one cinnamon roll.”

“Really.”

“You don't believe me?”

“It doesn't matter anymore,” she declined.

“Dinner is ready,” he announced and set the table with placemats, plates, and cutlery. Only a moment later, two pots were added. He took place next to her, and arranged noodles with sauce on their plates with some grated cheese sprinkled above. “Enjoy your meal.”

Sylvanas tasted and was overwhelmed. “Wow,” it slipped from her, “this is actually quite good. – Did you never envisage a career as chef de cuisine?”

“No. Not really.” Anduin denied. “I was always focused on becoming a baker and walk in the steps of my father.”

They ate in a cozy get-together, discussed, laughed and smiled. Anduin wasn't shy anymore, feeling more comfortable in a familiar environment with her. To Sylvanas' big surprise Anduin was witty and turned to be a learned man, having read a lot of books and being open to all topics. It amazed her to no end that she had not seen it when she had talked to him in the bakery and he had stood behind the counter. But then, she had only seen his slowness, and somehow she had forgotten entirely that he had taken time for each customer to ask after their health, or the well-being or the weather, so every person felt special.

She asked him a lot, and Anduin openly answered her, the trust in her not to turn it against him evident. Hell, she really hadn't paid attention when they had met the first time. But then, Nat had been on the phone, and she had missed his voice and...

“Whoever it is you are thinking of, I envy that person.” Anduin had thrown it into the room with an easiness he didn't have whole-heartedly. The way she was smiling – it was such a beautiful smile, softening her dark gaze – touched him, although it was clearly not meant for him but for somebody else. Of course, she must be in a relationship. He should stop being like an open book and start to grow up. Her attention was professionally based, and he should give up on feeling personally addressed. _Pull yourself together, Anduin_ , he scolded himself. The gorgeous, busy and sophisticated lady was really out of his league, who was he kidding here?

Yet, her honest answer surprised him. “No, you don't. – It's over.”

“As in... over and done or over and open for a new try?”

“Actually? Both.” A sad smile was once again on her face.

“I didn't mean to ruin your evening,” Anduin replied apologetically, stood up and cleaned the table, suddenly becoming sad and exhausted again. “You are free to go if you want to, by the way.”

“Am I? Dismissed?”

“No, I just meant...”

“You meant what?”

He gestured at her, a bit embarrassed. “You must have evening dates, too, I didn't mean to keep you for so long. Besides, I need my bed.”

“Is this an invitation?”

He blushed and fell silent, not knowing what to answer.

“Hmmm.” She stood up and stepped gracefully closer to him. Anduin, trapped between her and the kitchen counter, felt his heartbeat quickening. “You do not often have female companionship, do you?”

“No,” Anduin smiled sadly, surprised about his own courage, “you're my first, Lady Windrunner.”

“Am I? State to me exactly, how. Concerning everything said or done...?”

He hesitated, not sure why she wanted to know, but gave it a try. “In everything. First.”

She stopped when their lips were close enough, just short of touching him, and fixed his eyes. “Come forward.”

He flinched back, only for her to lean closer. “I... I...,” he stuttered but wanting to kiss her so badly, he simply bridged their distance and pulled her into his arms while putting lips on lips and dying inside with that deep, gentle first kiss he got from her. He panted, all his senses on high alert, the smell of the noodles still in his nose, the feeling of her soft skin under his fingertips that glided along her arms and the only sound of them kissing he could hear. And by the Light, she did it so well, he hardened fast and was overwhelmed by the way his fantasy already took two steps forward.

*


End file.
